Should the Spirit Move
by knitzkampf
Summary: An Imperial holiday takes place during civil war. Chewie listens in on memories Luke, Han and Leia share


Chewbacca the Wookiee ambled behind the trio of young humans. He was alert but patient, and sifting through centuries of memory. An unhurried human was very slow indeed.

They were off Hoth at least, and though this weather was cold at least the planet wasn't frozen. He understood why the others sauntered.

His first encounter was... it must be well over two hundred years now, Chewie thought. A research team had arrived on his homeworld of Kasshyyk. Strictly to observe, the humans insisted. _Fine, _Chief had said, _don't tell them of the underlayers. _

Most had died.

Humans were cunning; vicious and violent. Yet it was Han who told anyone that a Wookiee would tear a being's arms off. Typically, Han misconstrued the situation. Chewie had only done that once; the card player had a vibroknife at Han's chest and of course that was the only way to deal with a cheater: never let him hold a deck again.

Han, who had himself killed a growing number with his blaster, had stared wide-eyed. It was the blood, Chewie thought now. Humans weren't used to the sight of blood.

Humans were smart, too, and insatiably curious. Chewie had warned Han to not climb down to the underlayer when they visited Kasshyyk, but naturally had to wrest him from the carnivorous flakkfag. Come to think of it, Chewie had torn the leaves off that with his bare hands.

They came in such variety, too. Different heights and body shapes. Not all that attractive with so much bare skin, but at least they covered their bodies. The three ahead of him, for instance- Han's hair was darker than Luke's, with a tiny bit of crimp. The Princess evidently groomed hers thoroughly, because it was lustrous, thick and shiny. Chewie had no idea it was possible to grow it that long, either. Her eyes were the same as her hair, brown; Luke's eyes were a pale blue. Han's eyes- whether Corellians' absorbed light rays or it was a birth defect- could change color. It wasn't all that common even among their own, for Chewie had heard Luke and Leia make remarks about his eyes.

Chewie's experience with humans was generally not good. They were more trouble than they were worth, and once Emperor Palpatine declared Kasshyyk a slave world, humans were killed on sight. But they kept coming, devious and inventive. Chewie's life, from then on, was forever entwined with humans.

But he liked this group. Han had showed Chewie great honor, not in granting him freedom, but in rescue, and there was something about the Princess and Luke. Han felt it too; they were supposed to be off, repaying Jabba the Hutt, but for some reason Han couldn't make a clean break.

Chewie understood. He wouldn't get back to Kasshyyk but he missed his cub cousins, the ones he undertook the trials with. Surviving an ordeal together created a powerful bond, and that's what kept Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, and Princess Leia Organa together. It was supposed to be her mission; just her, an exchange of credits for information. But Han got wind of it and insisted on flying her, and when Luke heard about it he insisted on coming along.

This world had a large human population. Speeder lanes were for travel, and daily life occurred on the ground. They were passing through a merchant district, with owners evidently living above their businesses, judging by the speeder parked on the rooftop.

Han and the Princess were arguing about which was more important, convention or individuality, and Luke was trying to get a word in, but they weren't paying him much attention. They weren't paying attention, period, and Chewie hooted at Han.

*_I thought you came as bodyguard.*_

Han turned aorund with a glare.

"Is something wrong?" Luke asked.

"Shut up," Han said, probably to Chewie.

Human voices had such range, Chewbacca reflected. They were so expressive. They used words too, almost as much as a Wookiee, but humans liked to show off how smart they were. Wookiees used words because their voice had one tone, but a human's- ah, one only need listen to the music of human speech: the up and down, the swell, the emphasis on a word, and the meaning was clear.

Han Solo, not the most important of humans but certainly the most important to Chewbacca, had a voice perfect for stalking. Low and stealthy, ready to shift directions and pounce.

"What day is it?" Han asked now, his mood slightly scowling.

"The twentieth of the eleventh," Princess Leia answered readily.

The Princess would have made a perfect Slay Warbler. Specifically the male, Chewie thought as he lumbered behind the trio of humans, the tiny bird who sang day and night protecting the nest on Kasshyyk; beautiful dulcet tones that warned one away. Too often, a Wookiee fell under their spell and returned to the village, their arms and heads pocked with beak marks.

"It's not for-" Han paused to calculate- "thirty days and they already decorated."

"Guess we won't be celebrating Gift Day this year, huh?" Luke joined in the conversation. His voice was different than Han's. Softer, mollifying. Like a gentle breeze. On water, it ruffled the waves; on sand, it wiped ripples smooth.

The Princess looked around to be sure no one was eavesdropping. "Somehow giving thanks to Emperor Palpatine doesn't seem appropriate at this time," she said dryly, though Chewie could tell she enjoyed thinking it. She had a deep appreciation for irony.

And she had a special, separate appreciation for both Han and Luke, which was why she approved of them accompanying her. Luke was the solace of loss, and Han... well, Chewie wasn't quite sure yet. Han lived loudly, perhaps she had noticed the subtle musk of energy. Or it might the singular color his eyes turned when he looked at her.

Han laughed. "I think we'll skip it this year, kid, considering we're tryin' to shove the Emperor's gift up his ass."

*_Where it came from in the first place*_ Chewie put in.

"What did Chewie say?" Luke asked.

"He said Palpatine shit an empire."

_*I did not mean that literally._*

"What'd he say?"

"You gonna argue with me?" Han turned around and directed a palm toward Chewie. "You of all beings?" The quartet stopped and the crowd milling around them jostled for space. Han eyed a few beings hostiley.

_*I know you don't like the holiday.* _

"Damn right I don't."

After a short time together, Han told Chewie they could be partners. He never paid Chewie anything though, and any credits they earned went to the freighter Han used for smuggling, so that Chewie figured maybe he was half owner. But he was copilot to Han's captain, which made Han the boss. Chewie had no complaints, though. Han bought the food, and Chewie ate it, and he had a place to sleep, and he was free.

Han was solitary for a human. Closed-mouthed and private. Angry. Once Chewie endeavoured to bring some holiday spirit into the Millennium Falcon and set out some small decorations, and Han made him take them all down.

"Ain't no holiday," he had grumbled through too many ales, watching Chewie and not lifting a hand to help. "Fucking hypocrisy is what it is. You know how Hutts think Naboo food is a delicacy, Chewie? I'd like to chop up Palp's Naboo balls and serve 'em to Jabba."

Now the Princess issued a warning. "Watch your tongue," she said. "The decorations alone tell me this place is staunchly pro-Empire. We don't want to attract undue attention announcing we aren't celebrating Gift Day."

"I'll tell 'em exactly how it is," Han retorted. "How they're just helping Palps get richer, spending hard earned money buying gifts on his say-so."

He started walking again, and everyone fell back into step. The argument between the Princess and Han resumed. Luke, who did not participate but seemed to be listening while he maintained a watchful eye, adjusted his jacket against the cold.

The thought hadn't occurred to Chewbacca, but the reason for the crowd in the market might be the upcoming holiday.

Gift Day was a relatively new holiday which celebrated the beginnings of the Empire. Palpatine, who crowned himself Emperor, thought it would be nice if citizens expressed gratitude for the peace, security, and low taxes he brought to their lives. It was observed galaxy-wide, emphasizing sameness and membership, and provided a boost to local economies by encouraging beings to exchange gifts for family and friends, purchased at this special time when prices were low.

The decorations, in Chewie's experience, varied from place to place. Most used twinkling lights to symbolize the stars and how Palpatine possessed the galaxy. Many also incorporated water, which represented the constant rainfall of Coruscant, the Imperial capital.

It was daytime here, but there were streams of sparkly white and gray ribbon decorating the merchant district, and there was a good flow of beings entering and exiting store fronts, many carrying parcels.

Luke veered off down another avenue, heading for a huge fountain in the center of the market square, plumes of water jetting out numerous pipes while several hover droids flew a path around it, flashing gold lights.

"The Gift Fountain," Luke said, awed. He bent to read the plaque. "Proceeds go to the World Children Fund." He peered down into it. "Oh, beings are throwing credits in." He looked hopefully between Han and Leia.

Chewie waited. When Han didn't say anything, he decided to push. *_Give him a credit,_* he told his captain and partner.

"You do it," Han rejoined.

*_I don't have any._*

"I don't either. Got another need for it, remember?"

"What's the matter?" Luke asked, trying to follow half a conversation he could understand.

"Chewie's worried the wind's going to blow mist onto his fur."

_*You could spare some for that drink you enjoyed earlier_.*

"I don't feel any breeze, Chewie," Luke said.

"I haven't had Whyren's Reserve in a long time," Han was a bit defensive.

"Why are you talking about whiskey?" Luke wondered.

"Why are we standing here talking at all," the Princess said resignedly. "We have an appointment."

*G_ive him a credit. You can deduct it from my pay.*_

"Relax, Your Worship," Han said with a pleased smirk. He fished a credit out of a vest pocket and tossed it to Luke. "Once Junior makes his wish, we'll be on our way and we'll be on time."

Luke dropped the credit in the base of the fountain, and they all watched it sink. "Chewie, do Wookiees celebrate Gift Day?"

Chewie bared his teeth at Luke in what he hoped was interpreted as a smile. Luke couldn't understand a sound of Shyriiwook, but he tried to include Chewbacca as much as possible.

*_No*_

Han translated, "Wookiees don't get the privilege, seeing as Palpatine views them as substandard life forms."

"He said all that just now?"

"They do pray for his death, though. Don't you pal?"

_*Every moment.*_

"What'd you do for Gift Day, Han?" Luke asked.

"Nothing."

"I don't believe that," Luke said.

"The holiday didn't do much for me," Han sniffed.

"I always liked Gift Day," Luke said.

"Did you get a break from the routine of farming?" the Princess asked with interest.

"Yeah." Luke seemed nostalgic. He remained in front of the fountain until a little twi'lek child ran through Chewie's legs. "We were off from school a whole week. Tatooine had the suns, you know. Always bright, so we didn't decorate with lights. Instead we hung pieces of glass outside and the suns turned them into prisms. It was real pretty, dots of blue and red and green on the sand."

"That sounds nice," Princess Leia said softly.

"And my aunt gave me a couple of credits, and we went into town and got presents for each other. I always got goggles; you could never have enough of those."

"How old are you again?" Han asked.

*_You've asked them that four times since you met them. Why can't you remember?*_

"Is that a number?" Luke said. "Wookiee for twenty?"

"You're as old as the holiday," Han ignored Chewie. "No wonder you like it. I was a kid when it was mandated, and Corellians don't like being told what to do."

"So you didn't celebrate at all? What about you, Leia?"

Chewbacca sniffed. The Princess always smelled different when personally confronted by language. Humans couldn't detect the sudden spike of adrenaline with their nose, but it must hit them at some base level, for Han seemed to perk up at the smell of adrenaline-spiked Princess Leia.

"I was just a babe when it started too," she answered quietly. "Outwardly, Alderaan observed it as required, since we were members of the Empire. But covertly, it was more about the end of the Old Republic than it was the start of the Empire."

"Like how?" Luke asked.

"We hung black in the windows." She smiled slightly.

_*Subtle rebellion* _Chewie said.

"What did you say, Chewie?" the Princess wondered.

"He said your parents were sneaky. No lights?" Han said. "You got away with insulting the Emperor like that?"

"We did. He never visited, of course. My parents ruled as members of the Empire, but he knew they weren't believers. Black," the Princess added, "was the ink a certain sea mollusk created. Our industry."

"Alderaan print," Han said.

"Yes. That's how our House spun the reason for using black, that it was an economic incentive. Palpatine couldn't disprove it if he were so inclined. But in actuality, the color black was to mourn the death of democracy."

"Huh," Luke said. "What about gifts?"

"We exchanged gifts, yes. And we always had a fountain, so they changed the color of the lights is all. It was our wintertime, and we brought evergreens inside. It was a symbol of hope."

No one said anything. Princess Leia had that effect, and Chewie was sorry for her. The loss of her homeworld was too much for one person to bear and her sorrow just spread.

Chewie poked Han between his shoulder blades. *_Say something*_

Han finally came up with something. "Remember the old holiday Galaxy Day? Corellians burned an effigy of Palpatine then. How's that for hope?"

The subject was successfully changed. "You Corellians really were asking for it," Luke remarked.

"One year," he continued, "the harvest was really good- it actually rained!" he related excitedly. "And my neighbor Mr. Darklighter ordered a water sprinkler. He ran it for five minutes on Gift Day."

"Nice," Han tried to keep sarcasm out of his voice.

"We all stood around it," Luke was smiling at the memory.

Princess Leia laughed. It was nice to hear her laugh, Chewbacca thought, for the men too.

*_I'll return to the ship once you reach your destination_,* Chewie told Han's back, *_and I have escorted you safely_.*

"You're not coming in?" Han was surprised.

*_No. The Princess is right. Undue attention is dangerous. I haven't seen a single Wookiee since we landed.*_

"What's he doing?" Luke asked.

"Probably going rob the fountain," Han said. "Got a Hutt to repay. Good thought, Chewie."

"What?" Luke said, alarmed.

Chewie patted Luke on his soft blonde head. He waited until Han was out of earshot, and bent low to whisper in Luke's ear the incomprehensible language of a Wookiee. *_I know where he keeps a stash of credits. I am going to spend some.*_

"Um, see you then," Luke waved to Chewie and dashed to rejoin the others.

* * *

Han was right: it was another thirty days to Gift Day. The Princess was also right; there was no celebrating Gift Day on Hoth. The tiny military base was hiding from the Empire while it waged civil war, and no one felt like celebrating how Palpatine held the galaxy in his withered fist.

Chewie went about his task secretly. On the seat of the X-Wing Luke used to fly patrols, he placed a small glass orb. It was filled with a clear liquid thicker than water. Inside, on a painted lawn flecked with gold pieces, young children played in a fountain. When the orb was shaken the little sparkles of gold drifted about merrily.

While the Princess was at mess he walked into the command center. General Rieekan glanced up from a monitor in surprise. "Chewbacca, may I help you?" he asked, but Chewie rumbled at length and shook his satchel at the General, and he went unchallenged. At her computer station he left a ribbon for her hair. It was black and white; reproduction Alderaanian print of course, and he hoped she would like it.

Back on the Falcon, while Han slept he uploaded a card Chewie had drawn himself. It would show as a new comm and Han would open it first thing. What Han needed most was a way to pay off that too-large debt; the only other thing that would help was faith. The card was a holo of a Hutt, reclining on a throne. Inside a small tank, Sheev Palpatine squirmed naked.

A servant had a towel draped over an arm. "Next course, Naboo balls," he announced.

The Hutt rubbed his short arms in eager gluttony and Palpatine blanched.

_Wish I met you twenty years earlier, _Chewie had written. _Then y__ou would like Gift Day. _

Then he opened a smuggling compartment and removed the fresh garlands of greenery he had hidden from the other passengers. He'd had to install a sunlamp and mist the branches to keep them alive all this time, but it was worth it. He dragged them through the hangar, and hung them among the wire ducts in the passages, and when General Rieekan came to inspect, he only smiled, doting and sad.


End file.
